


Building Up

by saruma_aki



Series: Hold My Hand [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:54:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10121711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saruma_aki/pseuds/saruma_aki
Summary: The fact that he was the one that did that made him ill, made his insides churn and his toes tingle in an unpleasant way.But they'd get past this.He knew they would.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the sequel to Don't Come Home that some people asked for.
> 
> It took me some time to write it and for that I'm sorry. But it's here now!
> 
> Big thanks to marthakun95 who helped me with the plot <3
> 
> Enjoy!

God, he could remember every second in vivid clarity. He couldn’t even remember what he had even been angry about. He just knew that he had felt the rage burning just under his skin, hot and uncomfortable and then he had just exploded.

His fingers curled, nails digging into the flesh of the palm of his hand, trying to forget the feeling of the sting as it met warm skin he had caressed countless times before.

And the terror on his face, the utter fear when blue eyes had rose to meet his. It was something he wanted equal parts to forget and then never forget.

 He never wanted to see that kind of fear directed at him. He never wanted to be the cause of it. But he never wanted to forget, never wanted to forget the complete panic that seized him when he had realized what he had done. He never wanted to forget that so that he would never do it again, regardless of how angry he was for whatever reason.

His lips trembled as he brushed a faint kiss to a smooth forehead, taking in the puffy eyes and dark bags, the way the male’s grip was weaker than it usually was.

He did that.

_He did that._

It made bile rise up in his throat and he wanted to scream and cry and tear his hair out. He wanted to go back in time and undo what he had done, but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that. Not with this.

Three days he had been crying, yelling at himself for ever raising a hand against the man he loved. Three days he had spent praying that they could come back from this. Three days he spent with his phone clutched in his hand, barely sleeping, only barely managing to eat because he knew he screwed up, but he’d be damned if he didn’t have the energy to run back to their apartment when Leonard called.

If he called—but he refused to let himself think like that.

And now he was here, relishing in the warmth of the body pressed against his, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft brush of breath against his neck.

He had almost lost this.

And it would have been his fault.

He moved closer, wrapping Leonard up in his arms and holding him a bit tighter, wanting to never let go, to never hurt him, to never lose him. He had never thought before beginning to date Leonard how the man’s past might impact how he functioned, especially in a relationship.

It had never occurred to him because Leonard acted like everyone else—there was no reason to assume he’d be different in a relationship.

But Barry had been wrong, but he had been okay with it. He loved Leonard—a terrifying concept at the time—and he didn’t mind the male’s small idiosyncrasies. But one of the things they had never talked about or that had ever come up was how Leonard took to someone yelling at him or hurting him in any way.

It was yet another thing Barry had never considered would be different.

But here he was, clutching onto the man like a lifeline because he had nearly lost him because he was angry about something trivial and raised a hand against him. He should have known what the effect would be like, should have known the wounds it would aggravate—someone close attacking him was essentially half of the man’s life.

He should have known, should have reigned in his anger, should have gone on a run, should have not come home—he shouldn’t have come home.

But he couldn’t think about the ‘should have’s’ and the ‘what if’s’. He’d drive himself mad thinking of all the things he should have done differently, all the things he could have done differently that would have saved Leonard this heart ache and this torment.

It just wasn’t how it had happened.

And now all he could do was make up for it in every way possible.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but waking up made him start with the same horrifying fear of whether or not his phone would ring, whether or not Leonard would call and tell him he was okay, that he could come home, that it was over.

“Barry?”

The raspy mumble from beside him calmed the panic only to create more as he fought to turn, to turn away, not wanting to see the fear in Leonard’s eyes again, the hurt, the panic. He didn’t want to see it, much less directed at him again.

But as the male shifted next to him, his eyes were compelled to look over, worried the man was leaving and his eyes met the bleary blue gaze of the man he would go to the ends of the Earth for, the man he could write sonnets about even though he was rubbish at them, the man who he would wait hand and foot on if it meant he was happy.

And that man wasn’t looking at him with fear or panic or hurt.

No.

Leonard’s expression was drawn, hesitant even for being half asleep, brow slightly furrowed, a sort of desperation etched in the lines of his face, worried. But worried about what? That Barry would hit him again? The thought made his insides churn and his eyes burn. But his eyes traveled down a little bit and he caught sight of Leonard’s hand, fingers grasping the blanket near Barry’s hand.

Was he worried Barry would leave?

“Barry?”

The soft voice cracked a little on the last syllable and the desperation became so much clearer when Barry shifted, Leonard’s hand shooting out to grab at his wrist, his hold not tight, but gentle, hesitant, but desperate.

“Yeah?” Barry hurriedly responded, jaw clicking shut as he reached out with his hand, watching how Leonard eyed it a little bit—though that wasn’t anything new which settled some of Barry’s panic—and cupping the back of the man’s head, fingers massaging gently at his nape, pulling Leonard’s face closer so that he could rest their foreheads together, staring deep into the blue irises he would never get tired of drowning in.

“Where are you going?”

There was the fear. But it wasn’t the fear he expected.

He worriedly wondered that maybe Leonard was disguising his true feelings, that maybe he was more upset about what had happened. He had no doubt that the man would kick him to the curb without a second thought if he dared to do anything like that again—even though Barry knew he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t risk losing this again.

He wasn’t sure he’d survive—especially if he lost Leonard in such a way.

“Nowhere,” Barry murmured, keeping his voice soft, brushing a soft kiss to the man’s temple and laying back down, looking at the male. He wasn’t sure what his expression looked like, but he had no doubt that it was probably rather besotted and he watched as Leonard seemed to relax, sinking back into the mattress.

He knew trust would have to be regained, that he’d have to work to get them back to where they were before, to make up for his mistake. But he was willing to do it. Because he messed up—in the worst way possible—and he was determined not to lose Leonard.

And if that meant starting from square one, he didn’t care—although it didn’t seem like he’d have to.

It was a small comfort seeing that Leonard seemed to want to be able to move past this, as well, and emerge with a stronger relationship than before and Barry desperately wanted that, too.

“I’m staying right here,” he murmured, letting his hand lie next to Leonard’s, letting Leonard’s hand continue to be curled around his wrist gently like when their relationship had first started and Leonard always felt the need to have some hold on Barry that would give him some sort of defense if Barry ever got violent.

Which had been understandable, but it hurt to realize that the action was done because of Barry this time and not because of something in his past.

But it was okay. They’d move past this; they’d be okay. Barry kept the steady stream of reassurances running through his head, looking at how affection was still etched on Leonard’s face even though his hand was wrapped around his wrist.

“Good,” Leonard mumbled, the corners of his lips twitching up a bit as he curled closer, his eyes still puffy and red, his skin still pale, and his smile weak like he didn’t have enough energy, but it was enough.

And even though the knowledge of what he had done made Barry want to empty the contents of his stomach and tie his arms to his sides forever, he was dizzyingly relieved that it seemed like they’d be okay, that Leonard still wanted him by his side.

And he smiled and leaned over to brush a soft kiss to the older man’s temple, letting their legs tangle and feeling at least a bit more relaxed even though he knew the guilt would haunt him for long after.

They would be okay, though, he reminded himself, fighting to not slip into the ‘what if’s’ and the ‘should have’s’ that had been plaguing his mind for the last three days.

All that mattered now was that he was home and that Leonard was giving him a chance to make things right.

That was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Feel free to find me on instagram ( @saruma_aki )--I alert you all whenever I post a new story or update one (and there's lots of multi-fandom posts, too).
> 
> Feel free to drop me a comment below on your thoughts! <3


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